The Trials and Hair of Teddy Lupin
by Mashpotatoe Queen
Summary: Teddy Lupin is a kid whose hair changes colours with his emotions. Over the years, he takes inspiration from different figures in his life, his features transforming to match theirs. (AKA That future generation fic where Teddy grows up without his parents but finds a family all on his own anyways, and everything is okay and nothing hurts.) A series of ficlets.
1. Year One

**Hey there my friends!**

 **This is my new story, focusing on Teddy Lupin!**

 **I'm not sure why I'm writing this, but I really love Teddy and all he could ever be, and I feel that there should be more fics devoted to him and so I wrote one myself!**

 **I got a lot of inspiration for what happens in these chapters from tumblr posts about Teddy that I found on pinterest, so if you read something and it sounds familiar, it's probably cause it IS familiar! All credit for the ideas go to their various owners, although some of the ideas are my own.**

 **Also, I wrote this in present tense, a new way of writing I'm trying to practice. It's not my usual form of writing, so I'll really appreciate any help you guys can give me with spotting mistakes or giving advice and such. :D**

 **Lastly, I would like to say that I included a lot of characters and that my imaginations of what they are like and who they become are really entirely my own, and not canon at all. I have probably gotten mixed up with ages and times of birth and Hogwarts going as well, so I hope you can forgive me... :)**

 **And without further ado, enjoy!**

 **...**

Teddy Lupin, upon arriving at Platform 9 ¾ for the first time, promptly stares at the hoards of students awaiting him and slides just a little bit closer to Harry. Upon receiving several odd looks, his hair- a bright, neon orange in excitement but moments before- quickly shifts to untidy black even as his eyes take on a warm brown hue. Simple, ordinary colours. Colours that do not attract attention and look as if they belong to the amused man standing besides him.

A lot of people are looking at them. _A lot_. And he's not too sure he enjoys it, so he ignores them. And changes his hair color, rounds his face a little to match his guardian's. (He's pretty sure that one of his eyebrows is a shade of dark maroon instead of black, but that's okay. Nobody'll notice. Probably.) And he sticks close to Harry.

(It's long since become a habit for him, and it's the easiest form to keep, the one he feels most comfortable in. When he's just… _being? Was that the word? It sounded like the right word..._ When he's just _being_ he kind of just settles naturally into this look, at least so he's been told. It takes concentration to keep everything _in, the_ colours that would surely flit to and through across his hair without a little restraint. He still tried to keep it tamed, though, when Harry and Ginny- and now little James, too- and him were out and about together as a family. It made blending in a whole lot easier and it was always nice when someone actually mistaked him for Harry's kid, even if he would never say it out loud.)

Teddy does not grab Harry's hand- at the fine age of eleven, he's too old for that- but he does stick close as they traverse through the chattering, bustling crowds that converge and diverge around them. Harry is pushing the heavily loaded trolley for him, which he is grateful for, because there was _so much_ to look at- _the train, the people, the owls, the cats, the trunks, Harry, the huge columns, the brass sign declaring the platform number_ \- and he highly doubts he could have steered the thing and stared at basically everything else all at once.

Unnoticed, bright orange hue starts to slip into his hair once more.

And then his trunk is being loaded onto the train and Harry is giving him a few extra galleons for the trip- " _Just don't tell your grandmother… or Ginny."_ \- so that he can buy something from the trolley on his way there, and the nerves are back and his hair is _not_ turning a dull mustard yellow- it most definitely is not, _thank you very much_ \- he's keeping it nice and plain and _black,_ like Harry's….

The older man seems to notice his nerves- how is face is screwed up in concentration to keep everything under control- and is smiling, kneeling down to give him a hug, even if he's too old for them now in public, and Teddy is trying very hard to convince himself that he cares about it even as he returns the embrace.

(He doesn't.)

"You know…"

That was Harry, amusement and affection and something small and sad in his eyes.

"You know, your mother used to go around with the most ridiculous hair colours. Never hid her abilities; she used it to make people laugh, to start a conversation. It was very much a part of her…"

That was Harry's way, he knew, of saying that Teddy didn't have to colour his hair black. That he didn't have hide. That it was _okay_. Harry was like that, never super direct about his suggestions, but always offering his own opinion and accepting whatever Teddy did with it. It's one of the things that Teddy likes about him.

So he grins and promises the older man that he would write and gives him instructions to send his love to Nan and Ginny and Hermione and Ron and Victorie and tiny baby James and the rest of the family, even as he flashes a thumbs up at the older man, takes a deep breath and gets on the train.

He finds a compartment filled with other first years, all of them nervous, all of them frantically waving out of the window as the train pulls away. Teddy focuses on Harry the entire time, who's walking and then running by the train and waving and waving and waving, and his cheeks are starting to ache because he's smiling so hard- _They're going to Hogwarts!_ \- but his hair stays black.

He jokes with the other students and makes faces and laughs and feels and shares his nerves over what house he's going to be in- _Is he going to be in Gryffindor, like his dad? Like Harry? Hufflepuff, like his mum? One of the other houses?_ \- and what the teachers were going to be like and who he was going to dorm with.

And he keeps his hair an untidy mop of black, thinking, _thinking_ about what Harry said.

And then they're at the school, smoothly gliding across a massive lake in old worn down boats, and the sight of the massive castle looming above them is one of the most incredible things Lupin's ever seen, and his hair sprouts and turns a light shade of violet in awe and anticipation _,_ but no one notices because they're all just as entranced, and he quickly fixes it.

The Great Hall is huge. _Massive_. And there are tons and tons and _tons_ of people in there. Teddy stares right back at all the faces staring at him even as he makes sure his hair his very much black and messy and his eyes very much warm and brown and his face basically replicating that of one Harry Potter, if not a little more youthful.

They stand in a congregated mass of first years in the center of the hall, shifting their feet anxiously and watching the very old, worn down leather hat that would decide their fates.

Professor Mcgonagall starts reading out names. One by one by one, and the entire time Teddy watches with intensity as each First Year wanders up to the stool and sits down. Watches their faces break into relieved smiles as they finally get sorted and how their houses cheer as they rush to join them. Glances up at the flags, coloured bright, vibrant blues and greens and reds and yellows in honour of the different houses. Thinks about what Harry said.

By the time his name is called, he knows what he's going to do.

"Lupin, Edward?"

He makes his way up, so focused on getting to the stool that he hardly how some of the teachers' eyes bulge in shock and the half strangled noise that escapes the absolutely _huge_ man who sits at the edge of the table. Some students are whispering, too, but he ignores them.

He sits on the stool, hair still messy. Still black.

Mcgonagall is raising an eyebrow at him, assessing him, but he just stares back up at her innocently as he can. He's nervous- _Try terrified..._ \- but he's made up his mind. He was going to honor his mother's legacy. She was going to be here, with him, in this one small way.

(Deep in his robe pocket was a small old notebook filled with his dad's teaching notes. Uncle Bill had found it in his cabin years and years and years ago and had given it to him when he was seven. Teddy's pretty sure he's memorized every word, but it's still nice to have it with him. Nice to not be alone.)

The hat talks funny.

It's filled with riddles and games, rambling on and on about Teddy's different qualities, about how it had been so long since the hat had at last sorted a metamorphmagi. Teddy pays attention, because it is _sort of_ interesting, but mostly he's just impatient to get his plan into action.

The impatience vanishes when the hat mentions him being a lot like his parents, and he smiles.

He couldn't wait to tell Harry.

The hat, upon 'hearing'- _Could hats hear?_ \- this, does an odd sort of laugh in his head, claiming he knew just where he'd put him.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

His table is cheering- loudly- and everyone else is politely clapping, and Teddy himself is _beaming_ ear to ear because _his mum had to be so proud of him_ but he's also focusing, _focusing_ , because Mcgonagall is lifting up the hat and-

Just as the hat is lifted off his head, his hair bursts into a brilliant canary yellow, the same exact colour as the banners hanging from the ceiling above, and shoots outwards. Mcgonagall doesn't react, much, but her eyes are filled with fond exasperation and Teddy can already tell he's going to like her.

There are shocked faces and exclamations all around, and some people are laughing- the giant man from before is booming especially loud- but it's the good kind of laughter, and Teddy quickly joins in, happy to see all the happiness, and scurries to his table, where he's met with pats on the backs and smiles all around.

It's a nice feeling, and Teddy vows to try for it again, sometime.

He sends off a letter to Harry and Ginny and Nan almost as soon as he enters his dorm, despite the fact that it's getting late and he's feeling kind of sleepy and full, tells them what he did and what house he was in and signs it with love even though he's probably a bit old for that.

He gets his responses not two days later, all filled with love and happiness and pride, and he thinks that life's good.

He wonders what his parents are thinking, too, but he's pretty sure they're proud of him.

He keeps his hair brilliant yellow for a week- except when, of course, it gets away from him and turns all sorts of colors- orange in excitement or purple in anticipation or fuchsia in annoyance or pale pink in embarrassment or a sickly lime green in fear because _Merlin he's half an hour late and Mcgonagall is going to literally kill him-_ but that's okay, too, because everyone thinks it's super cool and it makes a lot of them laugh and Teddy wonders why he ever tried to hide his hair in public in the first place cause this was _fun_!

And sometimes his eyebrows become bushier or mismatched in color or his face narrower or his nose a little bit more crooked or his fingers longer, and, of course, there's that one very memorable time in which his roommate asks him if he can grow facial hair and it turns out, yes, he can, except then he doesn't know how to _stop_ it and ends up sporting a massive green and golden beard for two class periods before he can turn it back. He can't really control it, everything is always changing, but he thinks he's okay with it, now, and he makes the effort to keep it predominately his house color once bursts of emotions have passed.

But after the week he lets his hair fall back to its standard messy black and smiles brilliantly up at each and every teacher that comments on how much he looks like Harry.

He keeps it predominantly black and messy for the rest of the year.

His left eyebrow still rebelled, though, flicking through colours day and day out.

But that's okay, he'll get the hang of it.

Eventually.

 **...**

 **Tadah! Done!**

 **I really hope all of you guys enjoyed and that I have satisfied your Teddy Lupin needs. A huge thank you to all you guys who took the time to read this work!**

 **You are all super awesome. Love you!**

 **-Mashpotatoe Queen**


	2. Year Two

**Here's chapter two!**

 **...**

Teddy Lupin plays with tiny James all summer long, finally masters his traitorous eyebrow, flies in the sun on his brand new Quidditch broom as much as he can, teaming up with Victorie to beat Harry and Ginny, cooing- although he would deny it- over iddy biddy Albus and somehow getting wrapped into a dramatic tea party with Rose whenever Ron and Hermione came to visit. He gets a spattering of freckles all over his nose and cheeks, and at first he doesn't like them and hides them, but then his attention keeps lapsing and they keep coming back and eventually gives up and lets them be.

Either way, it was interesting to have a part of him that was, well… him, and not his abilities.

Halfway through the summer, he and Victorie are cackling in the living room together- it was the traditional yearly family sleepover at the burrow- because she's teaching him swear words in French and apparently he sounds utterly _deplorable._

Harry, Ginny, and the various assorted parents had retired hours ago, but only after Albus had begun to yawn every five seconds and literally fell asleep in his cereal. Molly and Dominique were hiding under their 'Super Secret Fort of Awesomeness'- which consisted of a hastily constructed blanket over the dresser and the back of the couch and a nightlight- after the older girl had practically dragged the younger there, whispering and giggling like mad. Their noises had long since gone quiet.

They, however, are both laughing ridiculously hard; it's past midnight and _everything_ is funny at this point, including deplorable French, but they're trying to be quiet at the same time because Molly and Dominique are sleeping and little James insisted in his stunted vocabularily that he was "sweeping wiv Ted and Vicky," and they would _not_ be the ones to wake him up from his conked out, drooling state.

And then she goes quiet, and he glances at her out the corner of his eye.

"What's wrong?"

Whispering, to keep James asleep.

"...Do you think my dad'll care if I get put in Slytherin?"

Teddy frowns, shrugs, burrows deeper into his sleeping bag. His hair had been turning a light shade of mikado, he's pretty sure, out of curiosity, but now he's pretty sure that it's every color of the rainbow in confusion.

"Why would he?"

Victorie gives him a look from her own sleeping bag, the one that says he's being an idiot, and he makes a half frown to show his apologies.

Then she goes quiet again, so he nudges her.

"It doesn't matter, Vic. All the houses are super cool. Don't worry 'bout it."

She was worrying about it.

Just then, an idea pops into his mind.

"You know… if you want...I could go with you?"

"What?"

And Teddy _grins_.

He shows up at Hogwarts sporting his customary black messy hair- this time, his eyebrow is non rebellious- and clambers off the train next to Victorie Weasley without much affair. Then, he promptly picks a person and slowly morphs his features to _sort of kind of_ resemble their's, ending up with dull red hair and bright green eyes and a rather stubby body by the time he and Victorie get on the boats together.

Nobody notices, but Victorie keeps _giggling_ and she's _going to give them away_.

(Except he's giggling too, between his semi-serious, " _Shhhh!_ "'s, and his hair keeps turning a bit turquoise in humor, but no matter, no matter.)

He shares her excited grin when the castle finally comes into view, stands with her- crammed in lika tuna in a can- as they all await to be led into the Great Hall, and pats her reassuringly on the back when she shoots him a nervous look upon her name being called to be sorted.

Victorie slowly walks up to the stool, her chin high despite her nerves, and sits down on the rickety wood. Just before the hat slips over her head, she catches his eye, and Teddy gives a thumbs up and grins even as he comes upon the strange realization that she was really, _really_ pretty, shining under the magical starlight….

Which was an odd thought to come upon, and he quickly shoves it aside.

But almost without recognition, his features slowly convert to match her's. His face grows narrower and his nose slightly smaller and pointed. His hair seeps into a pale blonde and his eyes into a startling grey, his body growing back to it's slightly taller and lankier form.

(Mcgonagall, standing at the head of the row, is the only one to notice the slow transformation. The small joyful part of her that is young and gay and is what keeps her in the business smiles, realizing just what is happening, but she says nothing.)

When the hat calls out Gryffindor, Teddy smiles and applauds loudly, and when Victorie spots him and raises a brow- she could always spot him, no matter what he looked like- he wiggles both of his brows and they laugh. He's slightly disappointed at being in different houses, but he also thinks that it doesn't really change anything, anyways….

Except that weird thought of Victorie shining in the magical starlight, looking like an angel and portraying a sort of radiant grace he doesn't think should be possible, but he's sure it's no big deal.

Really.

It's not.

Eventually, the snake of First Years trickles down until he's the only one left. And Professor Mcgonagall looks down at the paper and then back up at him, raising her own eyebrow. Teddy puts on his most innocent expression, asking her if it was his turn to get sorted, and she lets out an exasperated sigh. (Except she's smiling, too, so he thinks she finds it funny.) After a few dramatics- which included him throwing his arms into the air and claiming that no one wanted him, that he was Teddy Weasley, and _isn't his name on the list, Professor?_

By the time Mcgonagall tells him to sit down, he has half the hall in hysterics and Victorie laughing so hard she snorts. Feeling very accomplished, he bows twice, purposely flashes his hair every colour of the rainbow, and grows a lovely octarine moustache as he sits down at the table, stroking it obnoxiously even as his friends laugh.

He meets Victorie's eye from across the room, gives her a wink. She flashes him a thumbs up, and he grins, moustache vanishing as his hair tinges blue.

He goes to bed blonde, and is highly surprised when he wakes up in the morning to find it the exact same hue as the night before, the only obvious difference in his appearance is that he's a bit taller and a little less lanky.

He shrugs, gives his reflection a smile, and dashes off to breakfast.

"I thought that it was just for last night, but you're keeping it?"

That's Victorie; she's curious. Teddy's sort of embarrassed- hair fading into pink- 'cause it _is_ sort of weird, isn't it? He manages a shrug.

"I dunno. It just sort of stuck, so I guess so…. Do ya mind?"

Victorie looks at him, evaluating, for a few seconds. Then she shrugs, reaches up slightly to ruffle the hair, and starts wandering off.

"Nah, it's cool."

Teddy fixes his hair, quickly following after her.

Grins.

It stays blonde all year long.

 **...**

 **Boom! Slightly shorter than normal, but I really like this chapter. Hope you guys do to!**

 **Huge HUGE thank you to Cde135 and Elektra Elentari for the support in their follows/favorites! And a MASSIVE hug and THAAANK YOUUUU TO Andy the willow tree, WriterGirl7673, and Elektra Elantari for my lovely lovely reviews! :D**

 **Thanks for reading, everyone!**

 **Mashpotatoe Queen**


	3. Year Three

**YEAR THREE! WHOOH WHOOH WHOOH!**

 **...**

He's turning thirteen, and literally the entire burrow is in an uproar because literally the entire Weasley/Potter family is inside it, celebrating, as Molly Weasley senior stubbornly declared her house the home of the party, and no one had the guts to argue. Teddy himself doesn't know how to respond to all the gifts he's receiving- the pile of presents is huge- but he tries his best to express his gratitude to each and every single giver, his hair fluttering in and out of excited orange and awed purple and a happy sky blue.

Little Molly Weasley junior, ten and already asking if she can go and get her wand, is sitting opposite him and stuffing her face with chocolate cake as she talks about how she's going to Hogwarts next year and simultaneously plays foot-war under the table with him. The goal is to get both feet on the other person's chair, defend your own chair, and keep the adults oblivious all the while.

He's determined to not lose to a person three years younger than him.

(He's failing miserably.)

James is chattering like a monkey now, grabbing his hand and wanting to play Quidditch because he's gotten a new broom for his birthday and it _actually floats_ and _C'mon Teddy! I wanna play!_

Victorie is laughing at him as he tries to simultaneously fight for his kingdom- _eerrr, chair_ \- and keep James entertained, explaining that, no, he can't go outside right now because he's eating and _didn't James want cake and ice cream, too?_ She's dealing with her _far_ less insane sibling, explaining to Dominique about how Hogwarts is really, really awesome in the continuation of their evil plot to convince everyone to not go to Beauxbatons and join them in Hogwarts instead.

Dominique keeps flashing him tiny little knowing looks, and he tries to make his rough housing under the table a little less obvious.

(He fails pretty miserably in that, too.)

Ginny is trying to convince Albus to eat his greens, but the toddler is just staring up at his mother with a stubborn silence that was characteristically the opposite of what James had been at that age; _ie_ a temperamental tantrum headache inducing screamer.

Eventually, James wonders off to find Harry and Teddy is forced to concede defeat to a triumphant Molly. It's only after the younger kids are put to bed and the grownups are left chatting in the living room that his Nan approaches him, asking him if he would head outside with her for a minute.

Curious, he does.

It's only when their sitting in the old well-lived in garden on an old wooden bench that had been there for as long as Teddy could remember that he gets a good look at his grandmother. She's rather pale and thin, looking tireder than he had ever seen her, and he almost asks her if she wants to go back inside and get some rest.

Almost.

But Andromeda is a proud woman if nothing else, and she would not take well to him nattering about. She knows her own limits and she expects him to respect that.

He does.

(Still, something clenches in his heart because this was the woman who raised him alongside Harry and Ginny, if not even more so. She was his last living relative, and to see her so sickly makes some sort of incomprehensible panic flutter in his chest because it's just _so wrong_.)

But his grandmother, with her wrinkled work-hardened hands, slowly slides an old worn down photograph that he has never seen before into his palm, closing his narrow pale fingers over it carefully. There's something terribly sad in her smile, but overall it's filled with love, and when Teddy looks down he becomes terribly glad that she waited till they were alone to give him it.

Because there, staring up at him from a faded memory, are his parents. They are standing in a gloomy rundown kitchen- one that almost looks like Harry's, but that would be impossible, right? Harry's kitchen was never this… shabby- but they're lighting it up with their presence. Tonks is laughing and waving at the camera, saying something to her husband even as she wildly gesticulates with her arms. Remus is laughing a little bit at her, but there's a fondness in his expression at the same time, and he keeps nervously glancing back at the photographer. And they're together and _alive_ and _happy_ and Tonks is planting a firm kiss on Lupin's cheek and laughing at him as he flushes red and Teddy's eyes might be going a little wet but that's okay, too.

He carefully smoothes out the one of the corners of the photograph before gently placing it aside and pulling his grandmother into a hug, murmuring as many _thank you, thank you, thank you_ 's as he possibly could, and hoping that she could somehow understand an ounce of his appreciation.

By the way she hugs him back, tears in her own eyes, he thinks she does.

His hair turns a strange mixture of sky blue and nostalgic deep forest green, small flecks of grey in sadness shining through.

He's seen pictures of his parents before, of course, but they are few and scattered far and in between, and hardly ever are they photographs of them together as a couple. His father, he knows, was camera shy by default, and in time of war it was rather difficult to actually go and get your picture taken.

Beyond that, the few photographs there were to be had were really for everyone. They were to be shared and looked at by all, not just one person. They were rare pieces of treasure that everyone was allowed to admire.

But this picture… this one was _his_. He had his very own picture of his mum and dad that he didn't have to share with _anyone_ and for some reason it filled with complete and utter _joy_.

When they walk back into the burrow, both of them are smiling and both of their eyes are a little red. No one questions it, although Victorie looks a little curious, and Harry smiles and lets Teddy sit besides him until he's eventually shepherded off to bed.

Hours later, he's sitting quietly in the kid's room on top of his borrowed bed. Molly is curled up on top of her sleeping bag and James is sprawled out on the ground, several feet away from his designated sleeping space, while Victoire and Dominique are both on the other bed, but he pays them no mind. All his focus is on the faded photo in his hands, specifically on the bright, bubble pink hair that his mom it maintaining.

He remembers that his Nan once told him that she had always insisted that the few pictures that were taken of her daughter were done when she was normal looking, or at least passing for it. She had told him that she never wanted her daughter chased or signaled out for her abilities, an avid concern of the period.

In consequence, however, Teddy had very rarely seen his mother with her 'natural' look, despite the fact that he had been well informed on her antics. It was one of the reasons that he had always been so hesitant to just… let the control go when he was younger.

But now… But now this is his mother, brilliant and bright and happy, staring up at him with a smirky smile on her face and… and bright pink bubblegum hair.

He finds himself tiptoeing out of his bedroom, past the slumbering forms of his family- he almost steps on Molly, but avoids it at the last second- and into the lone bathroom down the hall. He quietly locks the door and flips on the lights, glancing down at the picture and then back up at the mirror, biting his lip in concentration.

Slowly, his pale blonde locks transform into the exact same shade of bubblegum pink, becoming shorter, spikier tufts rather than long, loose strands. He tilts his head, makes his nose a little smaller and button-like, glances back down at the picture, and nods.

He rather likes it.

His heart also hurts just a bit, clenching uncomfortably tight, but now that he has the hair on his head, connecting him with his mum, he can't quite bring himself to change it back. For the first time in his life, Teddy looks like his mother's son, and it gives him a sense of comfort that he didn't even realize that he was missing.

Mission accomplished, Teddy quietly turns off the light and sneaks back down the hallway.

At least, that's the plan, until he hears the crying.

Slowly, he pulls to a stop, staring at the doorway that he knows leads to baby Lilly's door. She's literally the tiniest thing, all downy baby fat and soft red curls. She's _adorable_ …

And she's crying.

Technically, Teddy doesn't have to deal with her. He could just keep walking or call for Ginny, or even Harry…

But it was in the middle of the night and Ginny was surely tired and...

The baby gave another pitiful cry.

Mind made, Teddy slowly creaks open the door. The infant, tufts of red hair shining in the soft light of the moon, stops her sobs for a mere moment before bursting out into tears again.

Teddy rushes over and gently picks her up- _cradle her a little, support her neck; she can't do it on her own yet_ \- making quiet soothing noises all the while, walking towards the window so that he could see her little face a bit better.

Upon spotting his still pink hair, the Lily coos and reaches for it.

Teddy smiles in succes.

"There you are, lil' missy. That's not so bad, is it?"

But then her lip starts trembling and she's gonna _blow_ and Teddy panics and does the first thing he can think of; he makes his nose a pig snout and snorts at her.

Lily stops crying, smiles, and reaches for him. Teddy snorts again, eliciting a little laugh from her, and he can't help but grin _because she's just so adorable…_

It's then that Teddy becomes aware that the doorway he left open before was now occupied, that he wasn't alone in the room, that someone was _watching him_. He slowly turns around, every single muscle tense and pulling Lily just a little closer.

He's not sure what he's expecting, but for some reason the obvious conclusion evaded his mind.

For there, standing in a slightly worn down dressing gown and with a rather sad smile on her face- as if remembering someone or something from years and years ago- is Ginny.

Teddy lets out a huge _whoosh_ of air.

" _Oh,_ it's you. _Merlin,_ you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Ginny stares at him, humour starting to crinkle in her eyes even as the nostalgic smile lingers on her features. Teddy thinks she's going to ask him why he's up, or why he didn't get her, or something along those lines.

She doesn't.

Instead, she says, "I like your nose."

It's then that Teddy realizes that- embarrassingly- his nose was still morphed into that of a pig's.

Sheepish, he quickly changes it back. He would rub at his neck as well, but he's still holding Lily, who's starting to get fussy now that her mother is in the room. (Everyone's second best to the mum. _Everyone_.)

Teddy hands the infant over.

He's not sure why, but he ends up standing in the room as Ginny quietly hums and puts Lilly back to bed. The silence, while long and uninterrupted beyond the infant's coos and Ginny's soft hushings, is not awkward. It's sort of peaceful, in all honesty.

And then Ginny is kissing Lily's forehead and laying her down and Teddy feels that quiet sort of longing that occasionally overcomes him whenever he sees such things. A mum, or a dad, or some parent figure caring for their kid.

It makes him wonder if his mother kissed his forehead and put him down to bed. If she and his dad and him had curled up on the couch and read bedtime stories. If Tonks had made silly pig noses for him when he was crying, or if Lupin had ever thrown him into the air just to hear him laugh.

Without realizing it, he reaches up and touches his bright pink bubblegum hair.

But then they're creeping out of the door and Ginny is quietly leading him down the hallway to his own room. She keeps glancing at him in the quiet dark, and he can just _tell_ that she's using her magic mum powers to pick him apart.

They're at his door and Ginny pulls him into a tight hug. They stand there for a few seconds, and Teddy's not sure why he's hugging her back this fiercely- Ginny has given him loads and loads of hugs, she gives them all the time- but he is, despite being thirteen and probably far too old to hang onto the older woman like a limpet.

When Ginny pulls away, she ruffles his bubblegum locks.

"Like your hair, short stuff."

Teddy pretends not to notice how wet her eyes look, even in the darkened corridor.

(She's not mentioning how wet his eyes are, after all; the least he can do is return the favor.)

"Yeah?" he tries, swiping at his traitorous face.

"Yeah."

There's silence for a few seconds, and they're just standing there in soundless mutual comfort. Distantly, he realizes that he's getting taller, now up to the woman's shoulder.

"Thanks for helping with Lilly."

"No problem."

His voice is rather hoarse, he notices.

Ginny pulls him into one last brief hug, gently kissing his forehead.

"G'night, Teddy. Love you."

Teddy smiles, and he thinks his is a little bit sad, too. But it's a good kind of sad.

"Love you, too."

She's wandering back to her room, now, and Teddy sneaks back into his own. Silently, he creeps to his bed and lies down, reverently placing the worn photograph of his smiling parents on his bedside table. He curls into a ball with bright pink bubblegum hair and a small soft smile lingering on his face.

This time, sleep finds him easily.

When he walks down the stairs the next morning, Harry flashes him a fond, quiet smile and more than one of the older family members give him quiet pats on the backs, understanding. James takes one look and proclaims that his hair is the 'awesomest ever' before demanding he take him on a broom ride. Rose squeals upon first sight and he is assigned immediately to the role of the princess in their tea party while Molly kind of gives him a funny look and an offhand comment that he looks weird, but in a good way; Teddy responds by saying that she's jealous of his epic hair. Albus wants to touch it, a common occurrence whenever Teddy goes through a dramatic appearance change- the younger boy has an uncanny ability of telling when a look is long term instead of short term- resulting in him sitting on the couch for several solid minutes while the toddler played with the pink tufts.

Victorie seems to accept it as easily as she accepts breathing. Looks at him for several seconds, tilts her head as if she's processing the new look, and then nods, going forwards as if nothing's changed.

Lilly seems to adore his hair, reaching for him whenever he's in the room. Teddy's pretty sure that she wants to eat it.

His grandmother, upon first seeing him, pulls him into his usual morning hug, except just a little longer and tighter than usual. She says nothing, just gives him a watery smile, which he returns.

One month later, he's at Hogwarts, bright pink hair and all. For the first time, he sits with his fellow third years as they ride on the horseless carriages and walks into the grand hall with them.

After the sorting, one of his dormmates leans over to him and nudges his shoulder. They're sitting at the Hufflepuff table, the chatter surrounding them is lively and warm, but what his fellow Hufflepuff says makes something hard and cold settle in his stomach.

"So… what's with the hair, Ted? It looks kinda stupid, if you ask me-"

He's not sure what makes the hard cold stone bubble up into anger, but it does. _His_ hair is his _mother's_ hair. The other boy is disrespecting his mother. And that… that is not acceptable.

Driven by a fit of rage, he reaches into his pocket and withdraws his dad's old worn leather notebook. Seething, but oh so very gently, he flips it open to the back cover, where his parents' photograph is clipped.

He turns it around so that his 'friends' can see and points directly at his father's image.

"My dad."

He then points at Tonks, who winks up at them with her bright pink hair flashing. The other boy looks horrified, realizing what he's done.

Teddy can't bring himself to care.

"My _mum._ "

He doesn't say anything else- doesn't think he can without shouting- but he stands up- loudly, drawing everyone's eye to him- and tramps over to the Gryffindor table, where he decisively sits down next to Victorie.

One of the other Gryffindors look like they're going to protest. Victorie shuts them down with a look.

There are _reasons_ why he likes her so much. This is one of them.

Eventually, his insensitive dormmate comes and apologises profusely for his jerkiness, and Teddy says he forgives him, because the other couldn't have known and because he's nice like that.

There's a little awkwardness between them, though, and the other boy refuses to stay alone with him in the same room for the rest of the year.

The first few months are filled with knowing, kind smiles from the older staff and slightly confused but non judging looks from the younger ones. The year is filled with hard work and exhausting classes, and at one point someone asks him why his hair is pink. Teddy tells them and somehow news gets about and he starts a pink haired revolution, students- and even some teachers- dyeing their hair pink in honour of fallen loved ones.

It's incredibly touching, and when Teddy first enters the hall filled with a sea of pink, he maybe cries a little.

But just a little, and they're the good kind of tears.

Mcgonagall especially seems introspective on his hair, as if seeing a vivacious young girl from many years ago come back to life. Her smile is kind, if not a little sad, and she offers him a biscuit when he comes to her office one day in the middle of lunch, tired beyond reasoning and needing somewhere that wasn't busy and obnoxious and _loud_.

Since then, it has become a bit of a tradition.

...They meet once a month for tea.

 **...**

 **BOOM! TADAH! THIRD CHAPTER IS COMPLETE!**

 **Big sparkly thank you to Cde135, Elektra Elentari, Oraeya, Starrya47, my lovely, lovely followers and favoriters! You guys are super great for supporting me this way, and I bow to your awesomeness. *bows***

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 **Till next time,**

 **Mashpotatoe Queen**


	4. Year Four

**Here you go, my peeps! Installment four!**

 **WARNING! BULLYING!**

 **...**

Teddy peers into a muggle shop, eyes quizzically analyzing the small rings that are lined up in their neat rows. He _likes_ them.

He was testing his capability of maintaining a small hole in his ear all summer long, and was quite pleased to see that he was able to do so with relative ease. Ever since he saw a muggle boy baring his own pierced ears, he had been admittedly curious.

And now he has his access to his own silver piercings, and he can't help the giddy smile on his face, his hand clenching the small amount of muggle money that Harry had given him upon proving that he was willing to make a commitment in order to get the earing.

(He's never done so many mundane chores in his life….. But Harry had somehow managed to convince Nana to let him have the piercing, so he couldn't complain.)

He's disrupted from his musings when a smaller hand reaches out to touch one of the rings. Teddy tenses, his mind flashing to Harry's warning to not touch _anything_ "unless you're going to buy it" and he quickly snatches the hand back, lamenting himself for forgetting.

After all, he's not alone.

"Molly, you can't touch anything. Remember what Harry said?"

The younger girl looks up at him, eyes furrowing in mild frustration.

"I'm bored."

Simple. Fact. A statement directed at Teddy in the complete (non existent) agreement that, yes, he should be the one to fix it.

Teddy sighs.

"Ok, ok… Just let me buy these… Go wait outside for a sec, kay? I'll be right out."

She huffs, leaves, leaving Teddy in blissful _unbothered_ silence once more. He ends up spending a tiny bit more time than a second, double checking the neat rows of piercings that he's sure he likes the ones he's chosen and then fumbling with the muggle money at the counter, but he gets there eventually.

He steps out of the store and satisfyingly shoves his hands in his pockets, fingers smoothing over the cool metal earrings. He smiles, looks around for a splash of brilliant red hair.

The smile slips off his face when said brilliant colour is nowhere in sight.

"Molly!?"

Teddy tenses, head beginning to turn sickly lime green in fear, a colour he tries to suppress. He doesn't like this.

Drawing his hand out of his pocket, he takes a few more steps out into the street. It's not particularly busy, and the shock of red hair should be easy to spot, so _why can't he?_

Then he hears it.

Someone is jeering. Calling out in a mocking tone down at the park just around the corner. Molly had asked him if they could go, and he had said no because he had really just wanted to get his earrings and was getting tired of having to stop whenever his pseudo cousin saw something she liked.

He sort of wishes he had just gone to the park with her, now.

Teddy breaks out into a run.

Then he's there, panting a little but not much, and there's a group of boys and there's Molly, eyes fierce and angry and red but also a little wet and she's gripping at the base of her sleeve in the way she does whenever she's upset.

Some kid tugs at her hair, making a snide comment about how she was a "soulless ginger" and that kid is like, Teddy's age, and _he sees red_.

He's not sure what he's going to do, but he makes himself bulkier and taller and slips his piercings into his ears and then he lumbers over to the group and growls at them, hair bright red and anger in every single inch of his being.

The wind picks up. He's not sure if it's him or Molly or just Mother Nature, but it's good for making a dramatic entrance, and he uses it.

"What you punks up to?"

He can't change his voice magically, but he can try and make it a little deeper.

The boys, three of them, and maybe a _little_ younger than Teddy, but not young enough to make any of this okay- no age could do that- turn to look up at him, and there must be something in his expression, something _angry,_ because they blanch and they are stuttering and apologizing but not to her and _that is not okay_.

The run off before Teddy can beat them up, and he thinks he's not super okay with that, but Molly's face is crumpling and screwing up and she has such a large personality and he's never noticed just how _small_ she is without it.

"I-I'm not just some stupid gin-ginger, right?"

And her face is angry but her eyes are kinda sad and desperate, and she's still tugging, tugging, tugging at her shirt and Teddy wants to do something very violent towards the scum who did this to his confident little cousin, the ball of radiant sunshine who could beat him at footwear any day and liked to show her affection by throwing solid punches to the shoulder. The girl who was proud and bright and brilliant, never doubtfu and scared and anxious, never this.

Instead he kneels in front of her, features sinking away from their prior looks until he's just _him_ again, and he's putting his hands on her shoulders and saying, "They're jerks and you're perfect. Kay? Utterly perfect. Red hair and all. I think they're just jealous."

And she's blinking up at him and he's trying to smile, and he must be doing something right because then she's smiling, too.

"Kay. Can we go home now?"

Teddy laughs, tells her _Of course_ , slips his hand in hers and starts edging out of town and back towards the burrow. She's going to be okay, he's pretty sure of it, and that makes something like relief settles on his shoulders.

It's an odd concept, colour, because for Teddy he's never been limited to just one.

"I like your ear thing."

He lights up, because he likes it too, very much so, and was glad that Molly could see its awesomeness.

"Yeah?"

She nods, he beams, and she then amusedly informs him that his hair is turning bright blue and neon orange and that people are starting to stare.

He blushes.

She smiles just a little harder- trying and failing to keep up a blank expression- and says that his hair has now turned faintly pink.

Repressing a curse, he stops for half a second and closes his eyes, focusing. They're with _muggles_ ; he couldn't be letting his hair flash colours willy nilly. He brings his hair back to its usual bubblegum pink and then glances down at Molly, frowning when he realizes the look of slight disappointment in her eyes.

"Better?"

She stays silent for a second, but then, "It's all one colour, if that's what you mean…"

He frowns again, trying to figure just what she meant, and falling short until he realizes that he had not changed his hair from the red of his disguise until just then.

Molly keeps walking steadfastly towards the house, his hand gripped tight in hers, and Teddy doesn't really know what he should do.

They end up walking onwards in silence, his free hand sliding upwards to his ears.

He tugs at the small crescent moons hanging there, wanders what his dad would do, as has no idea.

* * *

He wakes up the next day with his hair Weasley red, the first time his hair has not been bubblegum pink in over a year, and his face is a little more ovalish and his nose a little larger and he... he's not sure how he feels about it.

He ends up converting his hair back to bubblegum pink, but something is clenching in his stomach and he's not sure what it is.

His hair tends to sway towards red for the rest of the summer, and he doesn't understand why.

Two months later, Teddy's at the Hufflepuff table and trading ridiculous faces with Victorie over the masses of people when the grand doors slide open and the First Years come wandering in, eyes wide at the enchanted ceiling and the hords of people. Teddy's eyes search, spotting a splash of familiar red, and he smiles until he frowns.

Because Molly isn't looking inspired or awed, she's looking nervous and worried and kind of small again, hands tugging at her robes. Her eyes are surveying the crowds, apparently searching for something with bad results.

Teddy searches, too, and suddenly realizes that he was so able to spot the girl because there were so few redheads in the First Year at all.

He looks again.

In every year. It was in every year. There was a distinct lack of redheads in the entire mass of students.

And that… that's sad.

His mind flashes back, to a park and to three boys placing words that belonged in no one's head _in Molly's head,_ how his hair kept straying to red whenever he forgot to pay attention to it all summer long, and suddenly he doesn't want her to feel left out or strange, because this is Hogwarts, it's where kids are supposed to go to feel safe and accepted and loved, and there's no way he's going to let his little cousin miss out..

He catches her attention, waves, and as soon as she makes eye contact he grins and lets his hair flume a brilliant shade of Weasly red, thickening before falling out into a mess of red curls, a replication Molly's but shorter. His freckles darken and multiply, as well, his face rounding out ever so slightly as his nose extends just a tad larger.

She stares at him for a few seconds, and he cocks an eyebrow, but then she's smiling incredibly bright before composing her face and flashing a suave thumbs up.

He grins, knowing that he's done _something_ right. Flashes a thumbs up back.

And then she's marching up to the front of the masses, shoulders back and head held high, red hair and all, and there was that massive personality of hers and she suddenly no longer seems so small.

He smiles, and then grows a red and gold beard just for the heck of it when the girl gets sorted into Gryffindor.

He catches her eye and waggles his eyebrows and she laughs, and something tells him everything is going to be alright.

And then it's Christmas break and they are heading home for the winter, and he's watching the Hogwarts castle fade away from view.

It's him and the Weasley-Potter gaang, all piled in a single compartment along with some friends, but there's an uncomfortable silence because he and Victorie are fighting and not talking and he hates it when this happen, he really, really does.

She's just turned fifteen- and really, she _just_ missed being in the same year as Teddy, just missed it- and she's dating an older boy, a Ravenclaw called Henry Meyer a year above himself, and he _knows_ that Victorie can handle herself- he's been her best friend for years, of course she can handle herself, she's one of the scariest persons he has ever met when she wants to be- but he also knows that the guy she's dating means trouble and he _doesn't want her to get hurt and why can't she_ see _that?_

And Victorie's talking, and he's staring out the window, and there's a tension in the air of the compartment and he's angry, angry, _angry_ and he's not even sure why. Maybe it's because Victorie- his _best friend_ \- won't believe him, saying that he's _jealous_ of all things when he's honestly, honestly not and-

And his mind flashes back to her first year, where he thought she was rather beautiful under the magical stars, and how such thoughts flit into his head every so often even now, when he's angry at her and she's angry at him, and how sometimes he doesn't know how he can feel happy without her by his side with her cute little nose scrunched up in laughter, or without her making snarky remarks on the situation when Teddy's upset, or without her rolling her eyes with something fond and amused and _Really, Teddy, really? You're going to go_ there _?_

But those thoughts make something warm bubble in his chest and up into his cheeks, so he shoves them down, because he's mad with her, because even if he thinks she is one of the most beautiful woman in the entire world and her smile is the most brilliant thing to have ever happened, even then, it doesn't mean he's _jealous_. It doesn't mean he doesn't _care_.

And even if he's jealous, it doesn't mean that he won't give up everything for her to feel happy. That he won't stand in the corner of the room and watch her make doe eyes at someone else for all of eternity if only to made her smile.

But this guy she's dating…. This guy… he's not going to make her smile, he's not even trying, he just wants her- as if she was an object, as if she wasn't worth more than a thousand stars in the sky from her sheer personality alone- as some sort of trophee because she's part veela and it's _utterly horrid_ -

And for some stupid reason, he can't put his thoughts into words and now Victorie thinks he's jealous and they are angry at each other and _he just really hates it when they are fighting, okay!?_

And so they sit on the train and he's looking out the window and Molly's whisper asking _What's wrong with Teddy?_ and Victorie's responding with _He's just jealous because-_

And he's angry and standing up, hair turning bright red even though he's worked so hard to control it, and _reacting_ and probably making _everything_ worse-

"I am _not_ jealous," he hisses, sounding rather jealous. And Victorie is straightening and glaring and standing too, and _he wasn't going to respond why did he respond_?

"Yes you are! You're jealous cause I actually managed to find a boyfriend! You're jealous that I'm not spending all my time with you anymore! You're jealous because I'm happy and better off _without you_!"

Ow. That hurt. A lot. And this is the moment where he should take a deep breath and say that no, he was just concerned because he had heard the detested boyfriend- who had started the argument in the first place- bragging to his friends in potions about how he had "scored Victorie Weasley" and how he just wanted the best for her.

He doesn't. He glares, and maybe some of the pain of her words show on his face because there's a twitch of her brow and the rest of the compartment is silent, but he's also angry and he's opening his mouth before he can even force himself to take a breath.

"You think you know everything! That just cause you're in Ravenclaw you can boss everyone around and assign feelings and thoughts and reasonings without even asking. Well, _newsflash_ , people don't work like that!"

Her face is growing red and he knows his own face is as well and he's turning away to sit back down and look out the window again, so done and so sick of _everything_ \- himself included- but then she's protesting and raising her voice again and Teddy's whirling back around, mocking high pitched tone with a most likely horrid French accent on his lips and head held high in a fashion made especially to make fun of, full intentions of imitating Victorie in the worst possible way.

"I'm Victorie and I think I'm better than _everyone_ -"

He stops, eyes wide, hands snapping to his mouth in shock. Was that _his voice_?

Because… Because that wasn't his voice, that was _Victorie's voice_.

He looks up, eyes wide, and everyone is staring at him and it's _not just because of his voice, is it._

He looks at his hands.

 _His hands are not his hands_. They're feminine and slender, smooth and pale and they are _Victorie's_ hands. Exactly her hands. He's seen them enough in his life to spot them anywhere, but now his hands are her hands _and- what?_

He whirls around to look at his reflection in the window, gapes, because Victorie's looking back at him.

Well, two Victorie's are looking at him. One in utter shock, the other face is blank.

He whirls around again, this time to face the real Victorie. His eyes are huge as they stare at each other.

Her lip twitches.

And then they're laughing, hanging off each other like old drunks and the rest of the compartment is laughing too, because of course to them it's a pair of Victorie's leaning on each other and cackling, except they're dressed differently and one of them has a crescent moon earring in their ear. The whole thing is so odd and strange and new and completely unexpectedly ridiculous that the tension falls flat and suddenly they're friends again, just as they always are, and he's never felt so relieved in his whole life.

He spends the rest of the train ride figuring out how to convert into random people and mimic their voices. He eventually manages to do every single person in the quarters, and then he does Professor Longbottom, lifts his green textbook, and raises it as if it was the most precious thing in the world, monologuing a long speech of the glories of plants.

People laugh. His hair turns blue.

That Christmas, for his half present to Harry and the entire family, he performs an entire overly zealous and sarcastic performance of the elder's adventures where every single character was played by himself, in which he would transition from face to face to face and costume to costume to costume in a seamless parade of people.

Victorie helps him write the script and gather the supplies.

By the end of it, everyone is smiling and laughing, and more than once he had seen Hermione and Ron and Harry share secret glances, eyes shining with memories and events long ago, perhaps with a dash of nostalgia. He knows he's done his job well because of it and so he bows dramatically as his hair slips back to its usual curly read and his face into what he's considering his own, for now.

He catches Molly's eye, who is cracking up in the corner of the couch, trying to breathe properly and failing miserably, always falling into a new peal of giggles.

He winks.

She laughs a little harder.

He calls Victorie to the center of the circle and they bow again, together this time. There's another round of applause, and he's grinning, because everything's not perfect- he and her still have a tenseness between them, especially when she mentions her boyfriend- but it's certainly good enough.

And then, later, he curls up with his Nan on the couch. They're reading together, or, he's reading to her, because she can no longer make out the small letters. Ron walks past and ruffles his hair, commenting that he likes the red, and Teddy pauses to flash him a smile in thanks, the very tips turning bright pink before transitioning back to normal. At some point, Albus joins them, and he now sits on Teddy's lap, eyes following the words on the page as he mouths out the sounds, trying to keep up. His grandmother is pale and clammy, eyes sunken even though there's a soft smile on her face, and her fingers are ever so slowly tracing his shoulder in a constant soothing rhythm.

Then he finishes the chapter and realizes that the rhythm has stopped, and he looks up, only to find his Nan is asleep, eyes closed and her breath escaping her in soft whistling breaths.

For several moments, he stares, the worry he's been feeling finally escaping from his chest, because this is _his last living relative and she's not looking well at all and there's nothing he can do about it and-_

His hair turns a mixture of lime green and dark grey and all the colours of the rainbow in scared, sad confusion, and then flaring yellow in the beginnings of panic.

And then Albus is placing his far smaller hands on Teddy's face, eyes strangely serious for his youth.

"Don't worry. It'll be okay."

Teddy blinks- _When did this kid get so grown up?_ \- and tries to pull himself together for Albus' sake.

"Y-Yeah, you think so?"

They're speaking in whispers, because they don't want to wake his Nan. She needs her rest. She needs to preserve her strength.

Albus nods.

"I know so. You got us."

And Teddy stares in shock at this kid who somehow made him feel better with six syllables, and then slowly nods himself.

Albus smiles, perhaps proud of his accomplishment, and pats Teddy's face twice before turning around and picking up a different book, placing his Nan's old bookmark into the one they had been reading.

"Good. Now read me some of this."

And Teddy smiles, picks up the book and wipes at his eyes, and begins to read.

His hair fades back into curly Weasley red.

* * *

He enters Hogwarts Castle with his hair still red, but as he walks through the halls he changes faces until he's mimicking Professor McGonagall and he sweeps into the Grand Hall and dramatically gasps upon spotting the headmaster in her chair, calling out that there was an imposter, even though he's still in his student robes.

She sees through him within five seconds, face tensing before relaxing into an amused expression.

"If you wouldn't mind sitting down, Mister Lupin, it would be much obliged."

He grins, sinks to his normal form, and bows once more as teeters of laughter escape through the crowd, some of the older kids rolling their eyes at his antics.

"Whatever you say, Professor."

His hair is red.

It stays like that for the rest of the year.

 **...**

 **I like this chapter! It's a good one, I think. Thoughts?**

 **Big happy thank you to Xxibio and smithtk for my favorites and follows this past chapter! You guys are brilliant!**

 **To Writergirl7673 and Andy the willow tree, thank you SOOOOO much for my lovely, lovely reviews! You guys are seriously the bestest, and I have no idea what I would do without you! :) *hugs***

 **Until next time,**

 **Mashpotatoe Queen**


	5. Year Five

**Hello there, my fine tater tots, here's your next chapter!**

 **...**

It's the summer of his fifth year, and Teddy gets an owl.

Well, he always receives an owl, but this owl is _different_.

It's an owl that says he's going to be a Prefect.

 _A Prefect._

 _Teddy._

For an entire minute, he just stares at the letter and it's complimentary badge, eyes wide and blinking in shock. He's in incomprehension and he doesn't even know how this even _happened_ , and in all honesty he's thinking that it's probably a mistake.

Uncle George plops himself down across from them, a spoonful of cereal halfway up to his mouth when he freezes, catching eye of the letter.

"What's that?"

The question is partly curious, but mostly knowing, and Teddy quirks a brow at him. He has always liked Uncle George, even if the older man was often drawn into himself. The only time he's really brought to life is when he's with his kids, who seemed to have made it their personal goal to make him smile as much as humanly possible.

Teddy silently holds up the letter, laughing a little self consciously.

"It's probably a dud or something, but, cool, right?"

And Uncle George smiles a little, but it's tinged with sadness and grief and something a little haunted, but still mostly nostalgic and whimsical.

"No, no, I think you're right; it was probably meant for the next door neighbor or somethin'."

They laugh, Teddy's chuckles hinting at his own confusion and George's at his constant quiet sadness, but it's a good laugh all the same.

"You should go tell them."

The elder man gestures with his eyes to the crowd of people sitting in the livingroom, all of whom are deeply engrossed in the game of exploding snap between Hermione and Ron. The pair are staring at the table with faces of absolute concentration, and Harry has Roxanne on his shoulders while Lily claps excitedly on her own mother's lap for little reason beyond the upbeat aura in the air, laughing. Molly is rooting for Hermione, and Ron is calling out that he's been betrayed, and Rose and Lucy are dancing with Victorie, who's swinging them around the room and calling out, "Who's going to win!? Who's going to win!? Who's going to win!?" in increasingly ridiculous voices as the younger girls chortle and join in, Dominique watching on from the couch, book in hand. Fred junior is performing his own ridiculous dance around the trio, which involves a whole lot of arm flailing and garbled voices. James is sulking somewhere, because he had lost against Albus, while the younger boy himself sits on the ground before the table, focused eyes following the cards slapping to and through, taking his self assigned role as ref incredibly seriously, small brows furrowing in concentration.

(He's pretty sure that baby Louis is upstairs napping with Fleur and Bill, while the rest of the assorted parents were in the kitchen, drinking firewhiskey. )

Teddy simply swipes a hand through his still bright red hair, which is sprouting into a dull orange with nerves.

"I think… I think I'll wait till the game is done, if it's all the same to you."

Uncle George smiles.

"Whatever you want, kid."

And so Teddy heads over to the crowd, sits next to Dominique- who gives him a curious look before returning to her book- watching the chaos unfold. The game eventually finishes with Hermione the victor, and she's cheering, high fiving with Molly and giving a small bow towards to the quadruplet of dancers as they cheer for her, announcing her triumph. Ron pouts for all of five seconds before laughing and kissing his wife on the cheek, drawing out a collective _eeeewwww_ from the younger kids in the room.

Ginny takes the sounds of disgust as motivation and plops Lily down onto the sofa, standing up with a twinkle in her eye and drawing Harry into a kiss as well, even though Roxanne is still on his shoulders and banging both of their heads.

Teddy laughs, and his hair fades from orange to blue and back, settling in a weird mix of the two. Then he tugs at the curly strands and half clears his throat, catching Harry's eye from where he's releasing Ginny and swinging Roxanne from across his shoulders to the ground below, the young girl squealing in response. The older man immediately stands up a little straighter, pushing his glasses a little higher up on his nose with curiosity plain on his features, and Teddy can only hold up the letter and the Prefect badge with a shy smile and pale pink hair in response.

And Harry _grins_ , nudging Hermione and Ron who have since disentangled and are trying to fend off a mountain of children, and gestures to Teddy. And suddenly they're grinning and excited too and he's not sure how it happens, but he magically becomes the center of attention, the grownups- all of them, for they evacuated the kitchen at all the noise- congratulating him and patting him on the back while the kids eagerly slide up to him, asking to hold the shiny badge. Perhaps a little overwhelmed, he gives it to them and accepts the praise, only half listening to Uncle Percy as he rants on about his time as a Prefect in Hogwarts.

Suddenly, Dominique speaks up.

"I got a letter, too."

The voice is calm, but a little excited and nervous, and immediately the whole family turns on the younger girl. Carefully, she pulls out the folded letter from her book, unfolding it to reveal the well known words of _We are pleased to inform you that you have been invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…._

And seeing the younger squirm under all those eyes, Teddy plops down next to her and smiles.

"That's really great, but… Do you wanna go?"

He catches Victorie's eyes, shows her his hidden crossed fingers and she shows him hers in return.

Dominique bites her lip and then finds her mother's face.

"I… I think I'd like to go, if it's all the same to you…"

And Fleur smiles, says _Of course_ , and then they are off celebrating once again, him and Victorie sharing victory high fives, their evil plan accomplished. Now there's only Louis left to convince, and he's still practically a baby, so they have time.

Fred, having received his own acceptance letter back at his own house, grins and nudges Dominique's shoulder with his own, holding his hand out for a high five as they begin their eager conversation on just what they imagine Hogwarts to be.

Teddy expects that it will be everything and nothing like they ever dreamed of, and yet somehow wonderfully perfect at the same time.

(Because Hogwarts is always a little bit like home, to everyone and anyone who's ever attended, and it's always still somehow surprising all at once. That's the magic of it.)

And later, hours later, the adults are taking their kids home. Some will be staying the night, but some have work in the mornings and won't be able to. Teddy kneels to give Lucy a hug and knocks foreheads with Molly, waving goodbye as they walk out with Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey. Roxanne's sleeping in Fred's arms, so he simply kisses her forehead and chuckles when the younger girl wrinkles her nose. Fred wrinkles his as well, claiming that he _better not be planning on kissing him_ and Teddy retaliates by cuffing him in the head instead.

It's highly amusing.

George watches on, arm in arm with Angelina and ruffling Teddy's hair in passing, even though he's almost as tall as the man now. He can only roll his eyes in response, fixing his hair and waving until the family disappears from sight.

When Harry finally gets to apparating him home, he goes straight to his Nan's room- he'd been spending the weekend at Harry's- gently waking her up and showing her his Prefect badge. For a second, she simply looks tired and confused, an expression that has crossed her features more and more often lately, but then she's smiling and sitting up, pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead repeatedly, even though he's fifteen and a little too old for it.

It's good. Everything's good.

(Until it's not.)

On the train, he's called in to accept and learn about his Prefect duties. It seems simple enough, and he can only hope that he'll do a good job.

He arrives at Hogwarts and cheers along with Victorie and Molly as Fred's name is called and again when the boy get's sorted into Gryffindor but moments after the hat touches his head.

When Dominique's name is called, they cheer once more, and then he watches in eager anticipation as the hat sits on her head for a solid five minutes, his fingers crossing under the table; he's made a bet with Victorie on which house the girl would get in.

And when the hat calls Slytherin, Teddy applauds and cheers just as loud as anyone on the table with green clad decorations. Dominique blinks, a little shocked, but then she smiles and heads over to the table, sitting quaintly on the stool and accepting the hand of one of the other students in greeting.

He just grins, looking around the many tables and feeling his heart clench with happiness, because there is his family, spread across all the houses and it's just amazing and incredible and _wonderful_.

His hair flashes brilliant bright blue, and he grins at his friends and he grins at Victorie and he grins at Molly and he grins at Fred. He even manages to catch Dominique's eye from across the way, waving exaggeratedly and giving her a massive thumbs up and an even bigger smile, purposely transforming his locks into shining forest green. The girl returns it, her eyes alight from excitement and good humour, and life is good.

 _(Until it's not. Until it's NOT.)_

Later in the meal, he turns to his fellow Hufflepuff, a young First Year muggleborn, who's asking about the curriculum and the teachers who teach it, and doesn't even notice when his hair turns sunshine yellow.

The boy gasps, eyes turning wide as they look somewhere above his head, and Teddy blinks, glancing upwards and seeing nothing to warrant the for answers, he looks down at the kid and nocks an eyebrow, knowing that the tips of his hair are probably turning mikado in curiosity.

The kid gasps again.

Teddy lifts his other eyebrow to join the first.

"What?"

The young Hufflepuff's green orbs snap to his own, wide eyed.

"Your hair! It's, it just turned yellow! And now it's turning darker! How're you doing that!? Is that what we learn in class!?"

Teddy stares at the boy for a solid five seconds before realizing what he's talking about. Then, he laughs good naturedly and shakes his head, explaining just what a metamorphmagi is and proving his point by matching the kid's face and then growing a massive neon pink beard.

The First Year looks impressed, but also a little disappointed, and so Teddy leans in, still stroking his beard.

"You know, though, there is a class called Transfiguration, and in it you learn how to…"

By the end of his explanation, the kid's smiling again, and rushes off to share with his fellow First Years all that he's learned.

Teddy laughs as the kid wildly gesticulates to him and then reaches up to tug at his own hair, curious.

It's still sunshine yellow, the colour of his house, so he shrugs and puts it out of his mind.

A few days later, he's sitting outside on a brisk Saturday morning, enjoying the sun, when Dominique sits besides him. The girl is wringing her hands, and she looks up at him with wide, almost scared eyes.

"Do you think dad'll be mad at me for being in Slytherin?"

Teddy looks at her, sitting up properly for the first time in over an hour, brows furrowed.

"No. Why? Did someone say something to you?"

(No one will be bullying _his_ family, not on his watch.)

"No… It's just, no one else has _ever_ been in Slytherin, and what if he gets mad that I _am_?"

And Teddy blinks, relaxes, and places his hands on her shoulders.

"Listen… All that Slytherin means is that you're willing to do what it takes to follow your dreams, and there's _nothing_ wrong with that, kay? Your dad's gonna be _so_ proud; Slytherin's a good house to be in."

And Dominique smiles, reassured, before her eyes trail upwards, amused.

"Your hair's turned green."

His hands fly upwards, touching the short locks.

"What!? No!"

It has. The exact shade of forest green from before.

Over the next few days, such incidents occur again and again.

He's talking with Victorie, only to realize that the other's eyes keep flickering to his hair. When he asks about what has her so distracted her only response is to say, "Well, your hair's blue, and at first I just thought you were happy but now I'm realizing it's the wrong shade…"

His hands shoot up to his head and he turns to find the closest mirror.

Sure enough, his hair is a brilliant royal blue, matching the exact shade of Victorie's scarf.

"Huh," he says, and leaves it at that.

Then, even later, he's sitting through potions with the Gryffindors and partnering with a fellow Fifth Year by the name of Jack. Jack's eyes are intent as they read the instructions for the potions, and Teddy is scrunching his brow as he responds with a, _Wait, that doesn't make sense, doesn't the ground green beetle need to-_ when he realizes the other isn't focusing on him, but his hair.

"What?"

Jack blinks, refocuses, and then gestures to his head.

"What's with the Gryffindor colour, man?"

Teddy blinks at him and glances at his reflection in the cauldron, and, sure enough, he's sporting bright scarlet hair, the kind of color you only see in fabric and in paintings, vibrant in a way no normal hair could ever be. Hidden in the spiky red are flickers of gold.

He slams his head against the desk.

"Again!?"

Jack simply looked on, confused, mouthing the word, "Again?" under his breath.

Eventually, he just goes with it, allowing his hair to do what it wants and change into the house colours of whoever he's talking to. And as he's a sociable person, the colour changes near constantly. At times, he'll be speaking to students and teachers from more than one house, or even all four, and his hair will become a mixed hue of greens and reds and yellows and blues as he talks. When a conversation ends, his hair just sticks with its last colour, only changing again when he strikes up a new talking partner. Most find it amusing, some find it annoying, but almost everyone learns to just deal with it.

Victorie finds it hilarious. Boyfriend Henry Meyers does not.

And it's strange, because it seems that he was wrong about Henry Meyers. The older boy was gruff towards him, yes, and he could be angry at times, but more often than not he seemed to honestly care about Victorie. And if that's the case, if the Weasley girl is happy, well, he could learn to deal.

He still keeps an eye out though, just in case.

Halfway through the year, he's sitting at in the Grand Hall, laughing with his friends as his hair sports Hufflepuff yellow. The owl mail is coming in, and he's not surprised when a whole tack of letters is promptly dropped off by his plate; he has always kept up an avid correspondence with his family at home, whether it be Harry's chicken scratch or his Nan's looping cursive or recently even Albus' untidy scrawl.

He flicks through the envelopes, catching sight of the many familiar writings and inks, when suddenly he comes across a letter without an envelope, written in Harry's handwriting and the words _URGENT_ written on top. Curious, he opens it, reading the dark blue ink with an increasingly focused attention, his conversation falling flat.

 _Teddy,_

 _I need you to come home. Your Nan isn't doing so well; we've admitted her into St Mungo's, but they're saying that there isn't much they can do for her. I've sent a note to Professor Mcgonagall, so she'll be ready for you in her office as soon as you are. Your Nan, she's a strong woman, as I'm sure you know, but she's pretty out of it, and she's asking for you near constantly. I know this is hard, but..._

He doesn't read the rest.

His face blanches, fingers curling into the fancy cream parchment as his hair turns stark white, falling flat from its bright tufts and curling into itself, much as he is himself on the bench.

Someone is talking to him, calling out his name, shaking his shoulder while other people are calling for the teachers, for Victorie, for help, but he's not listening, he can't listen, he can only keep shaking and _shaking and shaking_ his head, because his mind keeps repeating _Your Nan isn't doing so well,_ even though he can no longer read the words in front of him, because his eyes are blurring, because he _knows_ that that means _she's dying_.

And suddenly Victorie is there, gently touching his arm, asking him what's wrong and how she can help. He realizes that he's gathered quite a crowd, but there's _not enough time_ , because they can't help, no one can help, and his Nan _is dying_ and he's just _sitting there_.

Abruptly, he stands up, and rushes out of the hall, leaving masses of confused faces behind him, at least, until a certain blonde Ravenclaw spots a certain urgent letter, dropped and left behind, and reads the first sentence, a soft _Oh_ leaving her mouth in sudden, terrible understanding.

He arrives at St Mungo's with dry eyes, Harry by his side as they rush through the hallways. He bursts open the door 315, startling the nurse tending to his grandmother, with dry eyes. And he sits down on the uncomfortable metal chair, oblivious to the nurse leaving the room and Harry softly shutting the door behind them, with dry eyes.

He doesn't last much longer than that.

The woman on the bed before him is pale and frail and sunken in, nothing like the strong independent figure he associates with his grandmother. But then she opens her eyes, still such a startling shade of brilliant watery blue, and locks gazes with him, the orbs fierce and bright and stern, and he almost breaths a sigh of relief because she's still here, she's still _her_ , she's still with _him_.

And he doesn't know what to say, but his eyes are suddenly wet and his breath is suddenly choked, and he's reaching out to grab her hand before he even realizes it.

" _Nan."_

The woman scoffs, the sound creakier than he remembers, and squeezes his hand.

"None of that now, young man, none of that."

But her eyes are wet, too.

They sit in silence for several moments, gripping each other's hands as if they were the only people left in the world, even though he can hear the bustling hospital staff just beyond the closed door. Outside, a bird is chirping- even though it's late and the sun is down- and his Nan has closed her eyes.

Immediately fear grips him, and he squeezes her hand once more.

"Nan?"

She opens her eyes, looks at him.

"I'm dying soon, ya know."

And he's hit by a sudden wave of denial, and he's shaking his head and leaning close, almost whispering in his absolute mad focus, devoid of logic and strung on emotion.

"No, _no_. _No, no, no._ You're, you're going to be okay. You're gonna be just fine. You're the strongest person I know, you're going to pull through, you, _you have to_. You're-"

And she's gripping his hand again and he's gripping hers, and she's whispering, too, such a soft, quiet sound, but it somehow overrules him anyways.

"Hush, dear boy. Everyone dies; you know this. I know my own limits better than anyone, and you know this, too. I'm dying soon, and that's that. But it will be okay; I have accepted it."

And Teddy's interrupting, and his eyes are blurred with tears, and his voice _cracks_.

"B-But I _haven't_ and I don't know _how_ -"

And then she's interrupting _him,_ her gnarled hand gripping his own.

"But you _will_ -"

"I- I _can't_ -"

"Of course you can, Teddy. _Of course you can._ _You're the strongest person I know_."

They lapse back to silence.

Somewhere, a clock is ticking, and the bird keeps chirping outside, and his Nan's rattling breath echoes through the silence along with his own hitched ones. The sound of the nurses and medics sound from the hallway, the bustling and rustling of a world moving on.

Funny, how the music of life only becomes so prominent right before death occurs.

And so, so very sad.

And then he's whispering furtively again, something small and desperate and _broken_ already leaking into his voice.

"You're the only family I have left, Nan-"

And her eyes snap open once more- _When had she closed them?_ \- and she's snapping back, quick as a whip, as smart and strong as ever.

"Don't tell me you honestly believe that."

His mind flashes to Harry, to Ginny. To Victorie and Ron and Hermione, to James and Albus and Lily, and all his younger siblings that he's never going to be related to by blood.

He shakes his head.

She relaxes again, breath rattling in her throat, and looks upwards, as if she can see the entire universe stretched across the plain cream ceiling.

"I've lived a good life, Teddy, a good, long life. And I will rest better knowing that you will seek one as well."

And something that's almost a sob escapes his throat- a wretched, broken wet _heaving_ gasp of a thing- because he knows that whatever rest his Nan seeks, it'll be one that she won't wake up from.

Again, a soft raspy whisper breaks the silence, some hidden reservoir of strength still standing strong behind the words despite their quiet tone.

"Be good, Teddy. Yes? You be good for me."

And he can only swallow hard and nod, can only nod, can only watch as his grandmother tilts her head and squeezes his hand, smiling her small smile that he had grown to appreciate and love.

"I'm," her voice catches," I'm glad we got to say goodbye."

And Teddy can no longer see because tears are blocking his vision, but he nods and grips her hand all the harder, thinking of all those people he never got to meet, all those people he never got to say hello to, much less goodbye. He thinks of all the people his grandmother has lost to death, without a warning, without a farewell.

"I am, t-too, Nan."

And he's crying, because her eyes are closing, and he's saying, "I love you, I love you," and perhaps she says it back, her lips mouthing the words, but he can't quite catch it and the next thing he notices is that he's yelling, for the nurses, for the doctors, for Harry, for _help,_ because _there's no pulse_ and she isn't _breathing_ and then he's being pulled away from the room, a stream of medics rushing in to tend to his dying grandmother, trying to bring her back from beyond the grave, and the last he sees of her is the striking image of her dark grey white speckled hair.

He used to think that her hair held stars, suspended in the masses of space, small flecks of burning white floating amidst the dark, twisting mass of grey.

And then Harry's crushing him to his chests, and Teddy's not sure what he's doing anymore, but he knows he's crying, that his hair is dripping heavy in dark depressing blacks- no space, no stars, just darkness- and his heart is even heavier.

And he knows he's never going to see his Nan alive again.

And hours later, he's sitting on a simple plastic chair, eyes staring at the world passing by and not seeing any of it at all. His head is resting on Harry's shoulder, but the elder man is asleep, head tipped back against the wall and mouth slightly open, glasses sliding off his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a paper bird, one which he is pretty sure is a Caladrius- Hermione used to sit with him with a small muggle book about different kinds of birds, flipping through the pages as his Nan, _oh God his Nan_ , huffed in the background- as it flits into view and lands on his lap.

WIth shaking fingers, he opens the letter, even though he knows what it says.

 _Dear Edward Lupin,_

 _We are grieved to inform you that Andromeda Tonks passed away at 5:32 AM Thursday morning. The cause of death was…._

5:32 AM. Dawn. It's- or used to be, now- his Nan's favorite time of the day. _New beginnings_ , she used to say. He hopes, distantly, that the medics had the curtains opened, so that the new day could creep in, so that she could see it, maybe, one last time.

But in reality, even as this plays in his mind, all he can do is bury his head in his hands and cry, not even aware when Harry wakes up and holds him.

The funeral takes place at dawn as well, and it's a beautiful morning for a sad occasion. Everyone is there as they slowly lower her into her magically formed tomb, a simple wooden one with elegantly carved lines that Teddy had thought she would like. And then he's supposed to say something, anything, to memorate this amazing woman that could take the world by a storm and still have the strength to take care of him, even then, and he can't. He _can't_. The words won't leave his mouth, and his throat is closed up even though his eyes are dry.

And so, instead, he lifts his wand and lights it, watching as flickering wand tip after flickering wand tip joins his own, helping to fill the light of dawn with something just a little magical.

And it's beautiful.

For several seconds, Teddy stares, his dark hair turning flickers of deep violet as he watches all those people who had known and loved his grandmother show their support, the beauty and strength portrayed by the image so like her that it fills him up with, with _something, and-_

And then he realizes that his Nan will never get a chance to see it, to see _this_ , and something in his heart _clenches,_ and the violet flickers out, just like all those wand tips as they are slowly lowered down, and it's the last colour anyone sees from Teddy's hair for a long, long time.

It's black. The complete avoidance of light. There's nothing to portray personality or light, simply short cropped black hair and a devoid expression.

And it doesn't change colours.

His grandma's estate is left to him, as with all her possessions and money beyond the few occasional things that were to be given away to their unrelated family and their close friends. His voice chokes up when he accepts his will, eligible when he turns twenty-one, but he doesn't cry.

When he's forced to sit through a thousand condolences and a thousand hugs, all he can think of saying back to the _I'm sorry'_ s is _Me too_ and all he can do when people hug him is to hug back, fierce and tight, with some irrational fear that said person would somehow vanish from his life as well.

But his hair doesn't change colour, and he doesn't cry.

When he's forced to go to his childhood home- well, half of it anyways, the other half will always be at Harry's- his eyes water and his fist clenches and he hurries to his room and grabs all the things that he thinks he can possibly need before flying out of the house and back to the sleek black car that is waiting for him, knowing that another minute would have him bawling and unable to stand because of it.

When Harry finally comes up to him and says, " _Teddy, bud, you got to go back to school soon…_ " fingers swiping backwards over the short cropped hair, he doesn't protest, he doesn't yell, he doesn't argue, and he doesn't cry. He simply nods and heads up to grab his stuff, despite the fact that Harry is looking at him pleadingly, saying that it doesn't have to be _right_ away if he wasn't _ready_ -

He's ready to go within the hour, and he ignores the older man's soft, concerned sigh.

Desolate. Broken. That's what Teddy is. Desolate and broken.

When he arrives at the school, 100% aware of the whispered rumours and the concerned looks, he ignores them. He goes about his day with hardly a sound, only answering questions when someone asks it of him, giving no or little response to people nudging his shoulders and saying, "Are you alright?" because he knows he's not and he doesn't want to cry.

Can't cry. Because if he cries he will break. And if he breaks there is no feasible way he can put himself back together again.

When he heads up to Professor McGonagall's office for their monthly tea parties, he sees the long, concerned look she throws his way. He doesn't respond to it. Then, as he's sitting down in his customary chair, the woman opens one of the drawers to her desk and places a packet of chocolate biscuits- his Nan's favorite kind, some traitorous mental voice reminds him- and says, "Have a biscuit, Teddy."

He ends up taking the biscuit, but he doesn't cry.

And when Victorie Weasley finally corners him in some abandoned classroom in some abandoned hall, looking at him lost and lonely with tears in her eyes and grief in every bone of her body, pulling him into a hug before he can say he _doesn't want one, but thank you anyway_ , he thinks, _Oh_ , and lets her, even though he's been the taller of the two for a while now.

And as they sink to the floor below them, he holds on tight, because he's realizing that the weight of the world of Andromeda Tonks isn't his to bear alone, that he has a whole army of people willing to bear it with him. Because his mind is traveling back two years ago, where a small Albus Potter sat on his lap and said, " _I know so, you got us._ " Because suddenly his heart no longer wants to be heavy and he can feel his grandmother's hand in his own, feel the entire universe stretching against its confines as he stares out into space where there is no stars and no light, and feels his very being _repel_.

 _Of course you can, Teddy. Of course you can._ _You're the strongest person I know_.

And then he cries.

Victorie's crying, too, he can tell because of the wet spot slowly growing on his shoulder, but it's mainly him, deep quiet sobs pulling from his throat and escaping into the open air, because before he was so scared of falling apart if he let any of it go, if he couldn't keep it all inside, but now he's beginning to realize that even if he shatters, his family will be there to pick up the pieces, to remind him that he's strong enough to hang around and see the joy past the pain.

And it feels good. Everything's good.

Until it's not.

But even then he can learn to pick up the pieces.

 _Again and again and again and again._

And when he's finally cried himself out until there's not a single tear left to drop, he leans his head back against the wall and looks up, spotting, to his surprise, and entire universe etched into the ceiling.

He swallows, and finds he has a couple tears left.

But he lets them fall.

And then Victorie says something, the sort of meaningless, snarky comment that she's prone to make, and it's not even that funny, but he's laughing- choked and broken but honest all the same- and the beaming look he gets in return for the sound makes being happy worth it.

His hair flickers blue.

Just for a second, hardly even there. More of a faded tint than anything, really, but it's real. The colour is there.

They miss an entire day of classes, but somehow none of teachers seem to notice, or, if they do, they do not mention it. And when they enter the Grand Hall, Teddy plops down at the table and eats something for what feels like the first time in months.

His friends stare for all of five seconds before grinning at him and tucking in themselves.

He tries for a smile back.

It comes out crooked, and his left eyebrow is the wrong colour, and he doesn't really care.

And then an owl comes soaring in, dropping off a package for him without much ado, and it's a letter from Harry, but his true focus is on the image that slips out of the envelope with it.

Because it's his Nan, sitting poised and strong and the picture of elegance and grace, staring at the camera as if challenging it to defy her, but then there's him, maybe two or three, running into the frame and onto her lap, hair bright blue with happiness, and she smiles a little, that small little smile he's grown to love, and seats him a little more steadily on her lap, already supposedly scolding him for interrupting the cameraman, and-

And it's perfect. The entire picture is perfect.

And that night, his eyes are once more drawn to the pictures by his bedside, sliding over his parents to his Nan, and he focuses on the woman's hair, on the image of space still planted in his mind as he sees the flecks of white within the dark grey, and without really thinking, his hair grows longer and curlier- although it's not the Weasley's tight curls, instead more wavy and gradual ones- and changes from black to a deep dark grey, small flecks of white emerging from the mix, like stars shining from space.

Like the light in the dark.

And then he sleeps.

When he wakes up, his hair is the same, and his eyes are a distinct shade of brilliant watery blue, and he has a hard time looking into the mirror but he keeps it anyways. Only a select few understand the reasoning behind his choices, everyone else looking mildly confused- at least, that's true until one of his dormmates spots the photo of a severe but kind looking woman on his bedside table and connects the dots and then proceeds to blather about it to everyone and anyone- but it's okay. It's all going to be okay.

And slowly but surely, the colour returns, emotion driven and vibrant and making his hair flicker into an unusual array of brilliant rainbows. The style stays grey with white flecks, honouring a woman dead and gone in body but never in spirit, and it stays that way for the rest of the year.

And he goes home, perhaps not healed but getting there, and as he crouches down to give Albus a hug, the younger boy wraps his arms tight around Teddy's neck and whispers, "See, I told you! I told you!"

Teddy smiles and can't help but agree.

 **...**

 **Okay... It was sad. It was saaaaaad. But there was a happy ending?**

 **MASSIVE BEAUTIFUL SPARKLY THANK YOU AND COOKIES TO MY WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL REVIEWERS! Lilith Jae, Andy the willow tree, Elektra Elentari, WriterGirl7673, and Starrya47, I'm looking at you! Your support and kind words really brightened my day! :)**

 **ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!**

 **Until Next Time!**

 **Mashpotatoe Queen**


	6. Year Six

**RAISES FROM THE GROUND IN UNHOLY GLORY**

 **I LIIIIIVEEEEEEE~!**

...

The summer of his sixth year is _long_ , to say the least.

He moves into Harry's house officially, his home away from home becoming his only home, until he he's twenty-one, at least. They welcome him in just as always, warm and comforting and bright, and Teddy wonders what he would have been without the Potters and the Weasleys in his life.

And if sometimes Ginny comes over and grips him for no reason at all, or if sometimes he goes to Harry's room and stands by the doorway, motionless, listening to deep, slumbering breaths, and if sometimes he makes Harry stay up with him all night long to stare at the stars, and if sometimes Albus sits on his lap- even though he's getting a little bit big for it, now- and plays with his dark, white speckled hair while Teddy tries to hold back tears for no reason at all, and if sometimes Lilly looks up at him with her big brown eyes and asks him if he's alright when they are in the middle of a tea party, because his hair is going black and flat again and that's not a good sign, and if sometimes James nudges him with a broom and asks to go flying when he catches Teddy staring off into the distance a little too long, well…

They don't mention it.

And, eventually, the colours do come easy again. It's no longer a struggle every day, just some days, and he can deal with it. He can.

Harry smiles at him, sometimes, when he's doing something completely normal, if not a little silly, like tickling Albus until he's literally _screaming_ with laughter, or letting Lilly get away with latching onto his leg and walking around as if the hindrance wasn't really there, or even just wrestling with James on the couch or chatting with Victorie about the new dress she's recently bought.

He asks, once, why. Harry clasps his shoulders and tells him he likes seeing him happy.

Teddy thinks he likes feeling happy too, especially after so long of feeling nothing.

(He's not better yet, doesn't know if he'll ever be, but he's getting there.)

And life goes on.

They meet up at Grandma and Grandpa Weasley's house, Arthur's brows wiggling like crazy as the elder man laughs and pulls Teddy into hug- going on and on about a thing called a cinema that Harry had told him about- and Molly taking one look at him and brushing him inside to make him a hearty sandwich.

He ends up taking the younger girls out to a muggle movie about a princess locked in a tower with long hair and Lilly falls in _love_ with it, babbling on and on about how Rapunzel is absolutely _amazing_ , and then she turns on him, her gaze landing on his hair, and it takes him approximately three seconds to realize just what the evil look on her face means and approximately two more for him to run for the hills.

He doesn't make it.

Which is how he ends up sitting on the couch in the living room with very, very long golden hair, an expression of pain on his face as the girls braid it- they don't know how, and in the end Ginny and Hermione are recruited- saying it would be easier to climb, and how later he ends up sitting at his window, looking down at Lilly and Molly with an expression of utter agony on his face as they try to figure out the best way to climb up his hair, and how even later Victorie gets some of the best blackmail material to have ever existed.

He has never been able to resist the puppy dog eyes… It's his sole, devastating weakness.

He takes the boys swimming, because apparently if he takes the girls out to do something fun it's now the rule that he has to also take the boy's out to do something fun too. The ponds outside the Burrow are perfect for the occasion, and Louis is just learning, and so he has to sort of hold onto him, which means that he doesn't even bother to wear any swimwear and shows up in his normal shorts and t-shirt as he was just planning on wading in the shallows, but then there's a water war and he gets soaked anyway, and they all head home wet and exhausted, Louis eventually falling asleep sopping wet on his shoulder.

When they all got to the house, they're forced to strip outside the door, and so he peels off his shirt and quickly dashes up the stairs in his wet shorts, ignoring Ginny's threats, because he wasn't _that_ wet, and he thinks he sees Victorie on the couch, staring at him and blushing, but he rushes past too fast to tell for sure.

It makes his face hot just thinking about it anyways, and so he shoves the thought aside hard, because _she already has a boyfriend, Teddy, don't be a butthead_ …

And Harry takes him out to get another pair of earrings for his birthday, and he chooses a pair of silver stars, and he puts them in and smiles at his grey haired-white spotted reflection in the mirror, trying not to think about how his Nan isn't there to do anything with him, about how he visited her grave this morning and how empty he had felt, sitting with bouquet of lilies that could never really express everything he had run out of time to say.

Everyone comes over for dinner, and at one point some random upbeat song comes on over the radio and Fred stands with utter seriousness on his face and asks him to dance, and for a second Teddy's confused, because _What?_ but then he sees the small quirk of Fred's lips as the younger boy tries not to laugh and he sees the joke for what it is. He accepts the hand, starting a very serious, not at _all_ exaggerated, ridiculous and goofy waltz around the living room. Fred somehow manages to dip him- the kid is like, half his size, it shouldn't be possible- and in retaliation Teddy screws up his features until they're an exact replica of the boy's father, which makes said younger boy yelp at the sudden change and drop him.

He sits up laughing, rubbing at his head and elbowing the other in the knee, until he spots Uncle George's blanched expression, and for a second he wonders why, only to realize and quickly convert himself back to normal.

For a second, everything is silent as they all stare at the redheaded man in concern, and Fred looks on with more than a little guilt, but then Ron clears his throat and says, "Cake?" and they were all off again, small reassuring touches on George's arms and shoulders as everyone passes.

In the distance, there's Roxanne's voice, _Mom? What's wrong with Daddy? Is he okay?_ But it's shushed gently.

And then Fred's hugging his dad and Teddy is quietly retreating out of the room, a small apologetic expression of his own on his face.

Then there's dinner, and there's a lot of talking and chatter and laughter and spilling and _mess_ , but the food is good and the sky is bright with stars and there's warmth in the air, and it doesn't even matter because Teddy hasn't felt this happy in a long, long time.

He arrives at school and his hair is still grey with flecks of white, but his spirits are high and his hair flickers in and out of the grey to a dozen of other colours with his emotions, and he feels more than okay.

There are horses drawing the horseless carriages.

They are black and dried up, seemingly dead and brought back to life, eye sockets empty and an aura of quiet death surrounding them. Teddy stares and stares and _stares,_ cutting himself off from his quiet reassurances to the First Year looking up at him. Then he gently nudges the kid towards Hagrid, gets onto the carriage, and doesn't say anything the whole trip there.

He goes to the library as soon as his Prefect responsibilities are done, needing _answers_ , and the page of Thestrals in the research book he's holding receives a few wet drops of character.

 _Because she's dead, she's dead, he can only see them because she's dead-_

He ends up stumbling into Mcgonagall's office at some ungodly hour of the night, and it's past curfew but his hands are shaking and he asks if he can call _home_ without a second thought.

Mcgonagall hands him a biscuit and and he nibbles at it as she stokes up the fire.

He and Harry talk for a long, long time that night, until the trembling in his fingers stop and the pinched pain in his head finally leaves.

And then there's Haruun, one of the older boys, at least a year ahead of him, but he's the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and he's desperate for Chasers.

He asks if Teddy can fly.

Teddy can fly.

And so, through a series of convoluted events and weird practices and strange tryouts and a whole lot of other stuff that he has blocked from his memory in fear of mentally scarring himself forever, Teddy joins the Quidditch team.

The first game goes off without a hitch, they're facing Gryffindor and they're sort of working out the kinks still, but Teddy still scores a few times and manages to steal the quaffle a few times, but it's their seeker- a girl by the name of Alicia- catching the snitch that really saves the day.

It's the second game where stuff goes wrong.

They're facing Ravenclaw, and he knows Victorie said she would be supporting her own team, but he's pretty sure he sees her out of the corner of his eye, cheering for him when he scores, more than once, boyfriend Henry Meyers giving her disgruntled looks every time.

It's in such times when his eyes waver towards her for that half of a second before refocusing on the game and finding the Quaffle and locating his team mates that it happens, and so he's distracted and so he can't dodge, not until it's too late, and he turns to get back into the game only to find the bludger flying straight towards him, and he only has a millisecond to think, _Well shi-_

He's never been unconscious before. He wonders if he'll remember what it feels like when he wakes up.

And then he's out of it, and falling from the sky, and someone is screaming his name but everything's too far away to understand…

And then he's really unconscious, and all he knows is darkness.

He's not awake, of course, as he is brought into the Healing Ward, where the head nurse tuts her tongue and heals his bruises and seals his cut. He's not awake, of course, as his features slowly fade from what was given to them, hair grey and white fading to brown, nose softening, eyes watery blue darkening to hazel, cheekbones becoming slightly more prominent, freckles coming on just a little stronger, body a little lankier, unconsciousness preventing his abilities from their constant work. And he's not awake, of course, when Professor Mcgonagall strolls to the Healing Wards, intent on checking up on the sole charge, and has to do a double check when the form lying before her is the spitting image of a young Remus Lupin.

She almosts says it. Almost calls out for a man long since dead, but manages to bite her tongue, and instead places a single hand on the boy's shoulder, reassurance of no haunting ghosts.

And he's not awake, of course, when she sits down, heavy and solid and suddenly so tired, and waits.

When Teddy finally does wake, features shifting and rippling and colours coming and going until the hair is back to grey and white and his eyes to blue and his form back to his 'normal', she's still waiting, and she goes through the motions and she gives him his potions and a small glass of water to wash it all down, and then she sits.

She sits back down and hesitates for only a moment.

She sits back down and says, "You look just like him."

And for a few seconds Teddy is _confused._ He's confused because he doesn't understand who she's talking about, and when it hits him he can only stare.

 _Oh_.

He's never seen himself without any alterations, the changes too quick and unconsciously done for him to ever really know what was him and what wasn't, the light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks and on his nose being the only exception, and even those fade and strengthen with time.

He looks at his hands, his hands that have shifted to short stouty fingers with long clear nails, and he looks up at the woman looking down at him, and he wonders what he looks like without his abilities, wonders if he could have been seeing his dad all this time if not for them, and then his eyes become wet and he's scrubbing furiously at them, because he's not going to cry, he's _not_ , except he _is_ and it's _embarrassing_.

His hair flickers pink and then it flickers dark and sad.

"D-Did you get any pictures?"

And that just makes it even more shameful, because his voice _cracks_ , because he sounds _desperate_ , but the woman just shakes her head, expression set in a heavy frown, and promises to take a picture if the situation like it ever arises again.

And it's stupid, the relief he feels when he hears the simple but solemn words of a promised photograph, but it's most definitely _there,_ and it's all he can do to stop himself from leaning over his hospital bed and pulling the older woman into a hug.

As it is, he just smiles, watery and bright, and when she smiles back just the same, he feels just a little better, small tendrils of blue creeping past the grey.

That night, his eyes trail across the photographs on his bedside. Past his Nan, tall and strong and proud with the universe of stars in her grey locks. Pass himself, with his hair bright happy blue and his face all baby fat and toddler excitement. Pass his Mum, her eyes bright and laughing as her bubblegum hair shoots out in all directions. Pass all of them, latching onto his father, tall and slim and nervous, but with warm, warm happy hazel eyes on his mother and ruffled unkempt sandy hair and his high cheekbones and his bony long fingers and- and him. All of him. His dad.

Teddy looks like him.

 _He looks like him_.

It's stupid how giddy it makes him feel, because of course he shares character traits with his parents, they're his _parents_ , but even then it still feels like he's gone his whole life believing himself to look like some distant being, unrelated and easily separated from the life of Remus Lupin, only to find that he in fact fit in perfectly after all.

It makes him sad, too. Sad and quiet and small, because he wonders what it could have been like if the man had been alive. If he could have written an excited letter saying GUESS WHAT HAPPENED TODAY- even though Teddy is probably too old to write in such ways- and explain how Mcgonagall had found out that he looks _exactly like you, Dad! Isn't that cool?_

He's never going to get to write that letter, not to the man he wants to the most, at least, but he can reach out and touch his Dad's face with his finger, soft and quiet and faintly nostalgic for something he's never known, and fall asleep, dreams full of a tall sandy haired man smiling down on him, a warm hand on his shoulder, and a perfect contentedness in his heart.

He wakes up and there's salt water on his cheeks, and a hollow hole in his chest that he never knew quite existed.

And his hair is brown.

Sandy brown, tufts messily sticking out everywhere in a way that was surprisingly planned looking. His eyes are hazel, too, perhaps a tad too dark, and he's surprisingly lanky and tall, a bit thinner than normal, a bit more awkward.

He huffs brown hair out of his face and gets dressed, pinning the Prefect badge onto his chest.

When he walks into the Grand Hall, none of the students pay any heed to him, apparently not recognizing him. He's surprisingly… average looking like this. Plain. A wallflower in almost every sense.

Except that some of the older teachers just- stop, when they see him, stare and blink and once or twice someone even rubbed their eyes, and each time Teddy stills and smiles a small apologetic smile, and each time the professor eventually connects the dots and smiles themselves, small and sad but real, and they part ways in silent understanding.

Only Mcgonagall does not seem surprised when she sees him, and instead she gives him a small quiet look that somehow portrays everything that is never said, but is important all the same.

It's a good moment, that, and Teddy tucks it away into his memory to remember some other time and place.

Victorie barely even bats an eye, and Dominique seems to realize who he's masquerading as a living ghost very quickly, all those times she's quietly looked at his bedside photographs showing the resemblance. Molly doesn't seem to really care, leaving it at the fact that the colour oddly suits him, and Fred tries to change the brown to brilliant green with a burst of magic, and succeeds for all of five seconds before Teddy changes it back.

There is, after all, an advantage of being older and wiser.

Fred looks disappointed. Teddy smiles smugly. And then he makes the younger boy's hair a brilliant magenta and leaves it like that for two days before finally relenting and taking it off.

(He still doesn't know why people thought he would be a good Prefect. He really, _really_ doesn't.)

A Second Year Hufflepuff- _David_ , Teddy thinks, _his name is David,_ because Teddy is going to memorize everyone's names even if it kills him- complains that the brown hair makes it harder to spot him in the crowd and that he can't find the Sixth Year _anywhere_ anymore. Teddy quietly explains to him how his Dad used to wear this look, about how his father had died in defense of the school and in the battle with Voldemort, and about how the hair made him feel closer to him, somehow, and the kid doesn't complain to him again.

Several other younger students who had been saying the same thing stop as well soon after, and Teddy has no doubt that David had spread the word of what the look means to him.

Quidditch starts back up again, and they beat Slytherin even though it's pouring with rain and Teddy thinks that he's going to fall from his broom for the second time just because of the sheer _force_ of the wind. He scores more times than ever before, though, making his body larger and heavier against the buffering wind, even though his hair stays brown and his eyes stay hazel, and the game goes on and on and on, and the Hufflepuff team keeps scoring and scoring and scoring because the entire Slytherin team this year is made up of twigs- thin, lean folks who can ride fast and well but are just so _light_ they have no control of their brooms in the face of the buffering gale.

At one point, the beater hits the bludger away from her teammate, but her balance is botched from the swing of her arm as a wind gushes over her, and she actually does fall.

Her fellow beater is too high up to stop the descent, her own stick smashing against the second bludger, and she's looking down at her falling team member and yelling in fear.

Teddy remembers that the pair is dating, and he has no time to really think, he just chucks the quaffle at Holly and dives, hands reaching and grasping and snagging the Slytherin's jersey with a heavy jerk, the pair of them toppling to the ground in a stumbling controlled fall.

The whistle blows, the game pauses as the pair of them get checked by a nurse, and then they're back in the air.

Alicia ends up not getting the snitch- the honour falling on the Slytherin Seeker, Oscar- but it doesn't matter; they managed to score enough points that they win anyways.

And with how the scores work out, it means that they'll be facing the Ravenclaw Team again to see who will win the Quidditch Cup.

And this is where things go wrong.

This time, Teddy very pointedly does _not_ get distracted by Victoire, very pointedly avoids looking directly at her when he's in the middle of the play, and he does quite a bit better for it.

But he still hears her sometimes, cheering when he's got the Quaffle or when he manages to avoid a Bludger after a particular risky throw, or even when he scores, and he can't stop himself from smiling even if he tried.

But because he doesn't look, he doesn't see Boyfriend Henry Meyers increasingly angry face, or the way he huffs as she cheers,or the way he eventually grabs her raised fists and eventually pulls them down, and Teddy's on the other side of the court and tossing the Quaffle in those few sudden moments when Victorie snaps at the older Ravenclaw and tugs her arms out of his grip, angry and indignant.

He's doesn't see her face- the way it falls, suddenly so, so sad and righteously angry at the same time- when Boyfriend Henry Meyers says something, angry and short, and stomps away, becoming Boyfriend Henry Meyers no more.

Victorie doesn't greet him after the game. It's odd. Different; she usually does, but he can't let himself be too bothered by it, even though he's more than a little disappointed at losing.

Still, they fought well, and it was a good game, and the Ravenclaw Team was very good about it, and for a first time Quidditch Player Teddy's pretty proud of what he's accomplished.

It doesn't stop him from wondering, however, as to where Victorie could be.

It bothers him enough that he outright goes and looks for her after everything starts to die down and he can actually take three steps before someone comes along and slaps him on the back, congratulating him.

He searches for a while.

He searches for a long, long while. And as he searches his worry only grows. In the end, he ends up checking with Dominique and Fred and Molly on whether or not they had seen her, but they haven't, and so he keeps looking.

He finally finds her in a familiar abandoned classroom with a night sky upon its ceiling and dried tears from the year previous resting upon the duty floors. She's curled up in the back, arms crossed around her knees and eyes wet but not teary, only angry and righteous and somehow still tragically sad.

Or maybe that's just Teddy.

It's a familiar scene, either way, and Teddy tries to shove down memories of brave woman with far too mortal souls and eyes made of stars, and takes a step forward.

"Are you happy now?"

He freezes, hands out, and can't help but feel _confused,_ because this is Victorie, an obviously upset Victorie, but he still didn't think she would be mad at him.

His thoughts races frantically, but nothing comes to mind. He hasn't done anything to make her so upset, would never do anything to make her so upset, would rather _kill himself_ then to do something that would make her so upset, and yet here they are and Teddy doesn't know _what to do._

So he tilts his head, and says, softly, "Sorry- I don't-"

And Victoire Weasley is standing, every inch of her expressing her all terrifying powerful grace, but her eyes are starting to leak and her hands, though gripped in fists, tremble.

" _Are you happy now!?_ You were _right._ You were right, you were right, _you were right._ Are you freaking happy now?"

And Teddy can only shake his head, utterly bewildered, hair turning lime green and and mixing in yellow as his best friend's actions make him feel more and more panicked, until he eventually just puts his hands on her shoulder, eyes wide, and asks.

"What!? What, Vic- I- What am I right about? I can't help you if I don't _know-"_

But she's cutting him off, slumping into his arms even as she continues to mutter darkly.

"You were right, you- you bastard. You were right."

And Teddy tilts his chin on her hair- _When did he get tall enough to do that?-_ and holds her tight, and asks again.

And again.

And again.

Until finally Victorie just- sighs, the tension in her fists loosening. And then, quietly-

"Henry Meyers. You were right about Henry Meyers."

Immediately, Teddy feel anger bubble up hot and angry inside of him, his hair flashing flaming red in a matter of milliseconds.

" _He cheated on you!?-"_

But Victorie is shaking her head again, lips pursed, so he freezes, hair fading back to brown.

"No. No- he thought I was cheating on him. With you. And then he broke up with me."

And maybe, if Teddy was someone else, he would be crowing inside his head because he had a chance. But he's not. He's Teddy Lupin, and his best friend in the whole wide world is upset and hurting, and he is, most of all, confused.

"But you would never do anything like that. Ever."

She's getting angry again, but it's the frustrated kind, the kind where it's all emotion and no logic, lost in your own heart and unable to pause for breath. The kind of anger that's directed not outward but inwards, heaving and seething until it boils to the top wet and loud and too much, leaving you choked and dry and a little too lost and a little too alone.

"Of course I wouldn't,"she whispers, her voice starts fast and curt, but grows smaller and quieter until it's hardly more than a whisper, "I would never do that. Ever. I just don't understand why he would ever be able to think that of me, you know? I don't understand why he wouldn't trust me, even though I trusted him, every time."

Teddy can't imagine Victoire Weasley ever doing such a thing in a billion years. He doesn't know how anyone could. So he stays silent and nods, and he holds her.

They stay like that for a long time.

And then-

"That's why you were right. You said- you told me. You told me he was gonna be trouble. You told me it wasn't gonna work out. I should have listened to you- I wa wrong and _stupid_ and-"

But then he's shaking his head, chin digging into her hair. Because that was wrong, that wasn't _right._ It really, really wasn't her fault in any way of the matter, and if Henry Meyers couldn't see how incredible and amazing Victoire Weasley truly was, then he honestly never deserved her.

"I was in the wrong there too. I was being a jerk and I was getting involved in your love life when I shouldn't have, and then I got upset cause you made a perfectly valid decision in making your own choice on the matter. I didn't have any right to try and dictate who you try and date."

She pulls away slightly from the hug and frowns up at him, her eyes reflecting the ceiling of stars.

"But you were just looking out for me, and I shoved you and your opinions aside like it meant nothing, when obviously you had some valid reasoning yourself."

He shrugs.

"Yeah, well, then we both messed up and we're both sorry. Let's let bygones be bygones."

She shrugs slightly as well, eyes still a little wet, and comes willingly when he pulls her back into a hug.

"And for what it's worth, I care about you a lot. You're my best friend and you're crazy smart and crazy beautiful, and I'm pretty sure that Henry Meyers is gonna wake up in a couple of weeks and realize just who he let go and regret it for the rest of his life."

And Victorie starts to smirk, the flare of life that has always managed to make Teddy both equally excited and terrified beginning to shine once more in her blue orbs.

"Weeks? Do you really think so little of me?"

And this is familiar and comfortable, and Teddy tries to resist chuckling as he takes a step back and bows.

"My apologies, fair lady. I was mistaken. The boy shall come running back to you and begging for forgiveness within days at most, not weeks."

Victorie laughs, and Teddy hair flashes blue as all at once everything becomes right in the world.

"Try hours."

And when he plops down next to her at the Gryffindor table and raises a chicken leg to his mouth only to look up and find Henry Meyers nervously trying to bumble his way through an apology later on that evening, it takes all his willpower not to laugh, for their joking predictions were more correct than they thought.

But Victorie handles it with grace, leads her ex-boyfriend out of the room and doesn't return for several minutes. Teddy wonders what they're talking about, hair mikado in mild curiosity and dulling in dark, dark green slightly on the edges out of worry- _because if he hurts her he's going to kill him even though Victorie could probably take him out far more easily than Teddy ever could-_ and pretends not to be watching the door for their entrance.

When they do eventually return, Henry Meyer's face is downcast and a little angry, and Victorie's face is reserved and a little sad. She sits next to Teddy with a sigh, and he puts a silent hand on her shoulder, and hopes it is enough.

The smile she flashes him, though small, tells him that it is.

He smiles back, quiet and happy with his best friend, and his hair flashes from brown to blue and back.

Later, he touches a single sandy lock, looks up at the enchanted ceiling filled with endless enchanted night, and he wonders if they are watching him. He wonders if his Nan is up there. If his mother is.

He wonders if his father is up there, smiling down on him.

He wonders, but he doesn't know, and he thinks that his dad would be proud.

Teddy reflects the ghosts of the past for the rest of the year, hair brown and choppy and body lanky and tall, and he smiles and he laughs and he pretends that he can feel his family who have since passed by his side, laughing with him.

He pats the nose of a Thestral on the way out, and it huffs at him.

It feels a little bit like finding peace, and it feels a little bit like letting go.

 **...**

 **Sooo... That was a long delay between updates, but this chapter is over 5000 words? Am I forgiven?**

 **Also, I swear, writing Tangled references gave me the utmost joy and pleasure.**

 **Okay, HUGE MASSIVE WONDERFUL thank you to my favorites and followers! RedRoseWalker, , Lauzag, AGirlCalledPadfoot, and Pheonix0192, you guys are all truly awesome and have my utmost gratitude!**

 **My lovely WriterGirl7673, Lilith Jae, Elektra Elentari, and Starrya47, YOU ALL ARE SO AMAZING AND FANTABULOUS AND YOU GET ALL THE REWARDS. ALL OF THEM. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!**

 **So anyways yeah, thank you so much for anyone who's read so far and for any and all support, feedback, or advice. I do all my editing, and I sort of half edited this chapter, o my apologies if there are any mistakes!**

 **Only one more chapter to go!**

 **Till next time,**

 **The Mashpotatoe Queen**


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